


Actin' Crazy

by Marasa



Series: Dynamic Stretching [2]
Category: Twenty One Pilots
Genre: Attempted Rape, Dreamers, Drug Dealing, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Mentions of Violence, Motel, Sex Work, Sexual Assault, Sexual Harassment, They love each other, but life is hard
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-13
Updated: 2017-10-13
Packaged: 2019-01-16 17:00:50
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 353
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12346860
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Marasa/pseuds/Marasa
Summary: “You don’t gotta worry about anything, baby,” Josh says against his hairline. “You trust me, don’t you?”Tyler leans into the kiss Josh plants on his forehead.





	Actin' Crazy

**Author's Note:**

> I was listening to Action Bronson's album, Mr. Wonderful, tonight and "Actin' Crazy" came on and I had to take a break to write this 'cause I was inspired by it. It's a great song, you should listen to it.

He returns with his right eye black, bloody, swollen shut. 

His fishnets are ripped, there are bruises sprinkling his legs, his arms, wrists. He’s glad he remembers what Josh taught him, that move with the bottom of his hand forced upwards. There had been a crunch, a gasp and so much blood. It didn’t get too far. It gets just far enough for him to hiss and spit curses all the way to the motel and fall into Josh’s arms when he gets there.

Josh smells of weed and alcohol and body odor. He’s shivering with the speed as cocaine still dusting his left nostril but he’s still gentle, gentler than clients that get too handsy. Josh rests his hand on Tyler’s cheek. His fingers smell of green, real cash that has taken the place in the bag previously full of drugs.

This place sucks. They talk about moving to California or Sweden or anywhere that isn’t here. They talk about how, when they get the money, they’ll get a three story house, mansion. Josh says they’ll only wear silk robes and only eat fancy shit and stay by the pool and fuck on marble floors.

Till then, they are left to endure long nights of broken blood vessels and twitching muscles. 

Tyler whispers, tells Josh what he remembers about that guy, the one with the horseshoe hair and the tattoo on his fingers and neck. Josh is already putting his shoes on, grabbing a pair of brass knuckles, grabbing his cigarettes.

He stops in front of Tyler, hand wrapping around his waist and holding him against his speeding heart.

“You don’t gotta worry about anything, baby,” Josh says against his hairline. “You trust me, don’t you?”

Tyler leans into the kiss Josh plants on his forehead.

Tyler’s eyes flutter shut. They throb. “Yes.”

One day, they’ll wear gold and sleep on sheets that are a million thread count and love each other on top of stacks of billions of dollars.

Till then, Tyler sits alone on the edge of the bed in a filthy motel and waits for shit to turn around.

**Author's Note:**

> I'm always up for little prompts. Send em my way if you have any


End file.
